Talk to Me
by socgrl
Summary: Post Persian Gulf and Take It Like A Man. Mac needs to talk to someone who won't shut her up!


Title: Talk to Me  
  
Author: socgrl  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Disclaimer: same as always. Don't own them. TPTB do!  
  
A/N: Just a note to all those JAG fans out there. I hope you've stuck with it. I know it's been a rough year. But they've got me excited as to how they are going to end this season. That's for sure! Oh well, I hope you enjoy. Please R&R, you guys are the best!  
  
0400 Hrs Zulu  
  
Mac's Apartment  
  
Georgetown  
  
Mac's POV  
  
My thoughts are reeling in my head. Thoughts about Sadik, Harm, and especially Clay. Was Sadik right. Am I just like him? No. I am not a heartless bastard that threatens to kill thousands of innocent children. But I killed him in cold blood. I killed him because of what he did to Clay in Paraguay. I killed him for hurting Harm. I killed him because he hurt me.  
  
I feel threatened. I feel insecure. And I feel empty. Sadik was right. I have no one to be there for me. Clay, who is supposed to be my boyfriend, is never around. His little welcome home parties are getting old. Yes, I'll admit it's nice to just feel and not have to think all of the time. But it's just sex. It's empty, hollow. And damn him for pointing out the obvious. He hit the nail right on the head. I'm fooling myself to think that this thing with Webb is more than merely a stand in for what I really want.  
  
'All around you are things; there isn't even one single picture of a human being Clay.'  
  
'Oh, this coming from the woman who hasn't had a serious relationship with anyone her entire life. Oh wait, I forgot you have Harm.'  
  
'You no nothing about him.'  
  
Those five words were laced with anger. He has no right to presume anything about my relationship with Harm. Hell I don't even have the right to presume.  
  
'Don't touch me Clay.'  
  
'I thought that's what you wanted Sarah. For me to touch you.'  
  
'Get off'  
  
'See, I've been stupid enough to think for the past eight months that you like my hands on you.'  
  
What in the hell am I doing with my life?  
  
Harm can't be there either, he has responsibilities now. "Grown-up" responsibilities as he pointed out. Maybe he's also right. Maybe I am upset because I think he's loosing interest in me. Damn it who knows at this point. All I know is that I want to scream.  
  
I hear a knock at the door. I don't want to leave the sanctity of my couch. I am bundled up in a comfortable pair of pajamas and under a big comfy blanket. Maybe they'll just go away. It's probably Clay anyway. I don't want to talk to him. If I do I'll have to explain that I wasn't talking about him when I said I killed Sadik because he hurt somebody I love. It was my past coming back to haunt me. It was Dalton all over again.  
  
"Mac, open up."  
  
The voice is not who I thought it would be. It's Harm.  
  
"Mac, I know you're there. Open up. I saw the lights on from the street. I know you don't leave the house without turning off all of the lights except the corner lamp. Come on Mac."  
  
I get up; wrap the blanket around my shoulders and go to open the door. I see that it is Harm and that he is alone. I unlock the door and open it and return to my place on the couch.  
  
Harm walks in behind me and closes the door, and follows me towards the couch.  
  
"Hey you," he says in a calming voice.  
  
I know a line of questioning is coming by the way he looks at my composure. I am sitting on the couch. Facing the coffee table. My knees are locked and my elbows are resting on them. The blanket is pulled over my shoulders and I just look at him through hooded eyes.  
  
He sits down on the coffee table. His knees are on either side of mine and he is hunched over looking at me and begging with his eyes for me to talk to him.  
  
Unlike Clay, Harm begs for me to open up. However, the question is always when is too much.  
  
"Sarah," he says quietly, lifting my chin so that I can look into his eyes. "I'm sorry for not understanding. For not being more understanding. I was out of line. And I just sparred back. I'm so sorry."  
  
I just nod my head in understanding and say softly, "I'm sorry too."  
  
"Talk to me," he urges.  
  
I search his eyes. They are a darker shade of blue than usual. They are the color of the deep recesses of the ocean. I look at him for the first time in months from an intimate standpoint. I reach my hand up to touch his face. He is very still and continues to look into my eyes. I trace the wrinkles that have begun to form on his forehead. And trace over the contours of the crows feel forming at the corners of his eyes. Finally I run my thumbs over the 'smile lines' surrounding his mouth.  
  
"You're getting old Harm," I say this as if it is a revelation. It's been so long since I've actually looked at him. I see that flyboy smile come full force and we both begin to laugh quietly.  
  
"Well thanks," he says jokingly.  
  
I can't bring myself to look back into his eyes. I'm afraid of what I might find. I'm afraid that if I look, I'll shatter into a thousand pieces.  
  
But I want to shatter, just not yet.  
  
By now I am looking at our hands. Mine are clasped together, resting above my knees and his are doing the same. They are inches from each other. And then I see his move.  
  
His hand brushes my right cheek and his fingers push the fallen hair behind my ear. His touch is soft. "Your hair is darker then it used to be. I liked it brown. But the black is very sophisticated," he said, almost to himself.  
  
He does the same thing to the left side of my face.  
  
"I love the auburn highlights, they bring out the color of your eyes," he said tracing a finger down my cheek to lift my chin.  
  
It's hopeless. He lifts my chin so that I am looking straight into his eyes. Tears begin to form and I try as hard as I can to keep them at bay.  
  
"It's ok Mac, talk to me," he says catching a tear that escaped and brushing it away with his thumb.  
  
I look into his eyes and know he is not going anywhere. He's going to listen. He is going to let me talk. He's not going to shut me up like Clay.  
  
"Damn it Harm, I'm not sorry!" he gives me a look of understanding and nods for me to continue. "He was going to kill hundreds of innocent kids Harm. He wanted me to go back with him. He said he would save me from my sinful life. He said he would purify me. He called me a whore. He wanted me to be his little Muslim wife and make tea for him. He told me no one wanted me. That is why no one was there to protect me."  
  
Tears are now falling freely and Harm is there to comfort me. Every once in a while he grabs a fresh tissue off of the coffee table and wipes my damp cheeks.  
  
"I killed him Harm. He was down. He couldn't have fired his weapon and I shot him. Between the eyes. I know under interrogation he could have given us the names of thousands of terrorists scattered throughout the globe. But I'm not sorry he's dead. And I am not sorry that I killed him."  
  
I look into his eyes, pleading for understanding. "Please, say something," I beg. "Do you think I'm a monster?" I ask timidly.  
  
"No Sarah, you're not a monster. That bastard put you and Clay through hell. He belittled you and questioned your strength and integrity. You are a compassionate woman. You were trying to protect the lives of those kids. You were trying to protect your self. And you were trying to protect your soul. He made you feel empty. You are the most passionate woman I know. And that passion consumed you and led you to act on your aggression. But you're no monster," he said. He wasn't sure if he said the right thing, but he meant every word.  
  
I see the compassion and understanding in his eyes and reach for his hand. With both of my thumbs I trace over the scars and veins in his weathered hands. They are tan and strong. With his other hand he wipes the stray tears that continue to fall.  
  
"Thank you for coming over Harm," I say as he places a finger to my lips to silence me.  
  
"You promised me years ago that I would never loose you. And that is my biggest fear that we are letting go of this thing between us," he says.  
  
"Clay told me again tonight that he loves me. I can't go through this all again; I can't keep lying to myself. Do I fight for the attention of the man who loves me? Or do I fight for the attention of the man that I love?" I say, hoping he understands.  
  
"Why not both," he says as he places a light kiss on my lips. "I haven't lost interest in you Mac. I've just stepped aside, respecting your decision. But never again doubt that I love you, because I've never loved anyone more in my life," he said confidently.  
  
Feather light, he traced the outline of a heart on my chest. "You will never again be alone Sarah, because I will always be in here," he said as he completed the shape.  
  
I looked deep into his eyes and leaned in to kiss him. It was sweet and signified what was to come.  
  
He drew me up so that we were both standing. And wrapped his arms tightly around me.  
  
"Are you going to be ok," he asked sincerely  
  
"Would you mind staying until I fall asleep?" I ask almost like a child.  
  
"If that's what you want, off to bed ninja-girl," he said with a smirk.  
  
I crawl into bed and get under the covers. Harm stands over by my dresser and removes his shoes. I roll over and turn down the other side of the bed and he crawls in under the covers. I can feel the roughness of his jeans against the silk of my pajamas. And I can smell his cologne on his shirt. He wraps his arms around my waist and places his chin on my shoulder. I pull him closer to me. I am asleep within minutes.  
  
I wake the next morning with a sigh. A full night's sleep is the miracle I've been praying for. I can't tell how long ago he left, but his pillow is cold. I recognize my stationary folded into a little paper airplane on his pillow. Carefully I unfold the plane and smile as I read the words in familiar script:  
  
You walked into my life a ghost.  
  
You forever changed my life as a friend.  
  
You became my life when I fell in love.  
  
I will be with you, always, until the end.  
  
I love you Sarah,  
  
~Harm  
  
At this time of the morning I know he has not yet made it to work, but I decide to leave a message on his phone at the office anyway.  
  
"Thank you for everything. The note was beautiful. I love you," I say into the phone.  
  
As I place the phone in the cradle I think to myself, 'Yes, today is going to be a good day!'  
  
A/N: What do you think? R&R. I may continue it, I don't know yet! 


End file.
